"They call me the Ragged Saint around here. Pardon the late introduction—I was busy playing with the child."
He said 'playing,' but in truth, he'd been teaching Seiki how to handle divinity. Divine energy was naturally manifesting in Seiki's body even without formal training. If left unchecked, it could damage the boy. That was what Audin had feared—and the reason he'd sought out his foster father, the Ragged Saint. Saving Seiki had taken precedence, which explained the delay in his arrival.
Standing next to the self-proclaimed saint, Seiki raised a hand in greeting.
"You've become more of a monster."
Seiki had always possessed extraordinary talent. His keen eye for perceiving changes in people was part of it. Even if he hadn't noticed Enkrid's transformation firsthand, the constant rumors made it impossible to miss.
"They say the demonic vice-captain broke hundreds of women's hearts and ascended."
"Nah, the fairies collected blood and made him drink it."
"You really get like that from nonstop training?"
Outlandish rumors had spread far and wide, but Seiki, though pure, wasn't foolish. He knew how to separate fact from fiction.
"That bit about becoming a Holy Knight was a joke."
The saint—Audin's foster father—spoke with an easy tone and a mild smile as he lightly tapped Audin's thick arm, a gesture filled with affection. Audin responded with his usual gentle smile.
What caught Enkrid's eye more than Seiki's apparent growth was the saint's appearance. Despite being called the Ragged Saint, his attire was anything but.
Clink.
The saint offered a handshake, revealing thick gold bracelets around his wrist and rings embedded with rubies, emeralds, and sapphires on every finger. A large pendant adorned with four gemstones hung from a necklace, and even its silver frame appeared mixed with real silver. His robe was of smooth silk—finer than what most nobles could afford.
Poorer nobles couldn't even dream of clothes like this.
Andrew, a noble himself, still wore coarse garments. Last Enkrid saw him, he'd only bought a formal outfit for rare official occasions.
"If I spend less on clothes and food, that's one more piece of meat on a villager's plate. I can't afford luxury."
That was what Andrew always said. Rebuilding House Gardner demanded frugality. Thanks to Enkrid's example, Andrew was managing just fine.
The Ragged Saint blinked his cloudy pupils. His unfocused gaze told Enkrid enough—he could barely see.
"One must believe in the gods. Even without becoming a Holy Knight, faith is crucial."
It was a beautiful spring day. The cold had receded, and green shoots peeked through the shattered remains of the trees from Enkrid's duel with Rem. Enkrid sensed Rem and Ragna's stares beyond the serene air. They had checked out the saint but quickly lost interest.
Jaxen had left earlier on an errand, and Esther remained in panther form.
Enkrid had planned to head into town after his morning training, but the so-called saint had intercepted him.
"Do you believe in the gods? You or the child?"
"Not particularly."
Enkrid replied casually. He wasn't being disrespectful—just honest. The old man's words and demeanor didn't bother him, but they weren't exactly charming either.
His voice was gravelly, and his face was speckled with age spots. Judging by appearances alone...
Wouldn't he look like one of those bishops bleeding the temple dry?
As that thought crossed his mind, the saint spoke again.
"Audin."
"Yes?"
"If I asked you to kill this young man right now, what would you do?"
Still smiling, the Ragged Saint said it with ease. Enkrid didn't interrupt. This wasn't about whether Audin would obey—it was something else entirely.
Krais.
The saint reminded him of Krais, Abnaeir, and Ermen—men whose every word was laced with layered meanings. Enkrid couldn't pinpoint the saint's exact intent.
Maybe even trickier than Kreis.
He seemed to conceal more than even Ermen. Still, Audin responded with a steady smile.
"Have you lost your mind?"
The saint let out a hearty laugh.
"Not yet."
"If you're feeling ill, there's a divine healer nearby—and an alchemist with top-grade potions."
Enkrid said dryly. The saint chuckled again and shook his head.
"I'm fine."
"He's even better at divine arts than me," Seiki added.
Audin brushed it off.
"He likes nonsense. Divine-style jokes, if you will, brother."
Divine-style jokes now, in addition to fairy ones? Enkrid dismissed it easily. But then, the saint approached him.
"You're headed to the forge, right? Mind if I tag along? Seiki, remember to practice what I taught you—morning and evening."
"Prayer? Boring."
"Endure the boredom. Learn patience. Only then will you use it properly."
The saint patted Seiki's shoulder. Earlier, he'd looked like a greedy bishop—now he resembled a wise sage, with his jewels glinting like a halo.
"Well then, I'll see you later, Audin."
"I don't recall agreeing to anything," Enkrid said evenly.
The old man immediately rattled off a slew of words.
"If you refuse, I'll just follow from afar. Will you really turn away a blind old man? Did I misjudge you? Or are you just itching to tease a helpless elder?"
Now he looked like a cranky geezer trying to guilt-trip him.
"You're quite the talker."
"How do you think a poor vagabond like me survives?"
"Divine arts?"
"Touché. I've made good use of that too."
He didn't seem remotely flustered.
"You only pretend to be blind, don't you?"
"Audin, you've been gossiping about me?"
"Was that a secret?"
"Not exactly."
This wasn't some comedy skit, but the conversation dragged on. Enkrid didn't have a reason to refuse and was curious enough to keep the man close.
"Let's go together."
"Please don't treat him poorly. If you're ever troubled, he may be of help, brother."
Audin gave a respectful bow. From afar, Rem called out.
"Going to Aetri to order a shield? Make it a sturdy one!"
"Sure thing."
Enkrid replied casually and turned to leave.
"If you spot any assassins targeting me, take care of them, would you?"
The saint added as he joined him.
"What'd you do to get assassins on you?"
"Well, I was officially declared dead in the Legion. Now that people know I'm alive, some want to fix that."
"You've made a lot of enemies."
"Not really. Maybe ten or so."
"That's not few."
"It is to me."
Everyone sees things differently. Enkrid didn't argue.
Audin watched them go. He knew what kind of man his foster father was—not one to harm others. Leaving them alone would be fine. At worst, the old man would play some harmless pranks.
He remembered the first time his father visited him at the Guard.
"You've cast off your chains, drawn out your divine power, and found a place to stay. Feeling better now?"
"Getting there."
"Still seeing things?"
"Sometimes. They talk to me a bit."
They'd already discussed the phantom of the boy Paldeen, who'd been dragged off and killed by the Church. That question Enkrid had heard earlier—about whether Audin would kill him—was something the saint had once asked Audin, too.
It wasn't something he'd seriously say to Enkrid. The point was to show Enkrid where Audin stood.
That he belonged not to the Church, but to the Madmen Unit.
Even if unspoken, he'll understand.
There was no need to stress it.
"I know Audin's with the Madmen Unit."
As they left the barracks, Enkrid returned the guards' salute and said so.
"Just being cautious."
The old man thumped his cane as he walked. Enkrid observed him and thought of two people.
First was the blind man who claimed to be an Apostle. Though their looks were different, both hid their true selves behind layers.
But this one's different.
His aura was completely unlike that Apostle's sinister energy. If this old man could hide it even from Enkrid's instincts, he'd be a better predator than Jaxen. But he wasn't. His instincts said so.
The other person he recalled...
Why, though?
For some reason, the old man reminded him of King Anu of the East. They were nothing alike. No shared history. Yet...
"Go on with your business."
The saint said. And without another word, they strolled through the market toward Aetri's forge.
Clang! Fwoosh, fwoosh!
The sound of hammering and the heat from the bellows washed over them.
"I'm here."
Aetri stood to one side while his assistant handled the forge.
"You've got a story for me, I'm sure."
He had waited days without touching a hammer, anticipating Enkrid's return.
"I'm grateful. That blessing saved my life."
It had deflected the demon's blade just enough to spare Shinar. Had she died... Enkrid would have grieved, but not faltered. He had sworn not to repeat today. To press forward.
That's the path he chose.
Even if the demon's vision had broken her, he would've tried to bring her back—by force, if needed. Never surrender. That was Enkrid's way.
"Truly lucky."
"Glad you liked it. I received the gear you sent."
Enkrid had sent him all the cultists' weapons and armor. He'd needed time to refine his swordsmanship. Aetri had needed time to study the metals.
"Then."
Aetri brought a table and two cups. As they drank tea, Enkrid gazed out. The saint loitered outside the open forge. Across the way, blossoms peeked from a tree. Spring winds met the forge's heat.
Enkrid spoke briefly, summarizing everything. It felt long in memory, but brief when spoken. Aetri grew thoughtful.
"Come back in a month."
"Got it."
There was nothing more to say. He didn't even react to the tale of shattered True Silver. Aetri's assistant never stopped hammering.
Enkrid liked that. The apprentice seemed to have his own path to walk.
"Where's Frog?"
"Out. Gathering materials."
"I see."
Next time, then.
As they stepped out, the saint spoke.
"Hungry? This street's got the best seasoned jerky in town."
"Yes, they do."
"Buy me some."
"Sure."
They headed toward the food district, one of the reorganized sectors. Inns and eateries clustered in one zone, craftsmen in another.
Four central inns marked the city's heart, with shared wagons running between them. Instead of horses, sturdy donkeys pulled them. No roofs. Each fit ten people or so.
But the two didn't need to ride. The saint walked just fine, and Enkrid needed no help.
"Looking forward to a master artisan's work?"
"Very much."
With those final words, they reached the jerky stalls. Nearby, marmalade was sold.
"Even the smell makes my mouth water."
They ate heartily and sipped drinks. As they wandered the city, a few people recognized Enkrid.
The saint watched it all.